The Dreamscape
by onwingsofsnark
Summary: AU. Isolated, he grew up in a world of music, with a new servant came the idea of childhood. One too many acts of rebellion, so she was lost to his memories. For Maka, school's the usual, until a boy from her past reappears, and the Dreamscape is unlocked
1. Childhood

_A/N: And… Here's my AU fic. I hope you enjoy it half as much as I enjoyed writing it._

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Chapter 1: Childhood

_Remember when we were just kids,_

_And cardboard boxes took us miles?_

_-Anberlin, "Inevitable"_

It was a quiet household, but not in the usual sense of few people talking. Noise spread across it, creeping along the walls and permeating every rug, every painting, in the grand mansion. But, contained within, was a sad sort of silence. Music was the very foundation that had granted the owners their wealth, and this mansion, it seemed, was, too, built on the ideal that hung between the relationship of the staff, the note, and the soul. Generations of musicians lived, and died, by their music, creating a heavy tone in the house, but, still, it was no place for two growing boys, or, in fact, a growing girl.

With parents continually gone on traveling concert groups, two brothers were left with their grandmother as their maternal figure. A stern and no-nonsense woman, she was easily the toughest critic of the boys' musical progress. To the younger of the two brothers, it was simply the way things were. Music was the lifeblood of the household, and he grew up knowing it as artist knows his brushes.

There was a period within his brother's recollection in which their parents did reside at their mansion, inherited from previous generations, but it had ceased to be in easy reach for the elder of the pair, who was ten years the younger's senior. He could recall the winding duet of his mother and father; he could remember how he learned his own music at their knees. But at fifteen, he was already teaching his little brother the notes of the staff, and their relation to one another, because that was his duty as an elder brother.

The maternal figure in the boys' lives was none too easy to bear either. More time was spent with music under her instruction, a woman who ignored them outside of their shared music lessons. Ten years between the boys was a vast difference, and more often than not, the younger's playing was critiqued and perfected to live up to familial standards. His elder brother had gone through the same treatment, but where the elder played on the violin, his bow softly gliding over each string, the younger's fingers graced the black and white keys of a piano.

The brothers weren't particularly close, as ten years was a gulf in age and maturity. The elder spent more time with his studies and music than with his brother. Their shared time was merely their music lessons where the younger's feelings of inadequacy were cemented into his personality in the unwavering light of his elder brother's brilliance with his instrument.

But there was another figure that soon entered the brothers' lives. Most remarkable, was the child the newly hired maid brought along. While the Mistress that lorded over the mansion rarely spoke to the maid, she did her best to allow the daughter access to most of the household, save the personal rooms of the owners and herself. This meant the employees, and, thus, the brothers, could see the daughter occasionally wandering the halls of her new house in search of the latest mystery such an ancient house held.

It was in her wanderings that the girl found the elder brother. Her wide green eyes looked up at him, impossibly old in comparison to her age of five. "Hello," She whispered. Her voice carried along the supposedly haunted hallway.

Red eyes looked down on her and slender fingers curled around a violin. He found his voice, "You're the new maid's daughter."

She smiled up at him, a child's innocence surrounding her. "I am! Mama was just… hired." The girl was proud of her growing vocabulary. The fifteen-year-old blinked and he began to walk off. She was uninteresting as far as he was concerned. The toddler followed, and added, "I'm Maka, what's your name?"

"Wes," came the reply, though it was evident he was done conversing.

The daughter was strong headed, and kept after him, "So your Papa owns this home?"

"Yes." Wes approached a door to his personal music room, though she had no way of knowing it. He struggled with a desire to open the door, enter and slam it in her face, but had been taught that servants should be respected, as they did the work he had been spared from doing. "Excuse me," he entered the room, and with careful respect, slammed it in her face.

The girl's green eyes looked up at the huge door, and she fell to her knees and began crying. Everyone was quiet here, speaking short words and not talking to a girl. Their family needed the money, though, to put her father through the training he needed to become a teacher.

Silence was her company for a long time.

Soon, another white-haired, crimson-eyed son joined her, easily her age. His hands were shoved into his pockets. Even though the Mistress had told him it was poor posture, especially considering his valuable station in life as a painter of notes, he continued the habit. It was more comfortable, and what did she know anyways? She was wrinkly and smelled like old cheese to the younger of the boys.

Wide green eyed looked at him, and soon a smile found its way back on her features, "I'm Maka." She stood and curtsied with her tiny frock, hands spreading in the same fashion her mother had used on their first day at the mansion, only having been greeted by the head of the help staff.

He paused, eerily similar to his brother. Slowly a frown worked his mouth. "Soul," his voice held an inflection that was similar to his brother's.

She blinked at him. "Want to play?" Soul made no move, no words came out to wreck the years of quiet music. Maka walked over, reaching out a hand, "Let's play." He didn't remove his hands from their pockets, but the girl didn't seem to mind. Her fingers slid into his pocket and pulled out, twining closely. He began to walk, not resisting, though more out of apathy than unwillingness. "I found a really big library, but it was all dusty – do you ever use it?"

"No."

She stopped and stared, "What?!" Then she took off running, the boy only barely being able to keep up with Maka's passion for books. "Come on! You've gotta see it!"

It was odd being led by someone who didn't own the mansion, but Soul was dragged along anyways. Soon the pair was in front of two doors, which, to them, were incredibly large. Maka shoved one open and they entered. Maka's eyes glowed with a passion for books only rivaled by Soul's lack of enthusiasm. She turned around and grinned at him.

"Let's play!" Wide green eyes sought half-lidded red ones.

He looked around, "I don't see any instruments."

She laughed, and Soul's eyes fell a little. Well, she'd asked if he wanted to _play_, and that was all he knew. What was with her? What else was there to play? "No, silly!" She giggled, "A _game_! Like Hide-and-seek!" She received a blank stare. "You don't know it…?" Another giggle. "Well, I'll teach you!"

Soon, Soul's hands fell from his eyes and he began wandering the expanses of the dusty library. He glanced between shelves and poked under tables, looking for the gray-haired girl. Shiny black shoes became scuffed with the dirt in the library, and he came to a long wall lined with shelves, but under them were cupboards. He began opening them one by one, shutting each one behind him in turn. Before long, he came to the very last one and opened it.

He expected some sort of challenge, but, instead, Maka was curled up side, head resting on her hands, slowly breathing. He reached out a hand to wake her up, but, instead, let it fall back to his side. The boy sat himself between Maka and the door, resting his back on the hinge. His head fell back against it, and he was soon snoring.

*===*===*===*

"I am highly displeased." Maka stood next to Soul, eyes looking up at the Mistress. Soul's eyes were lidded as he prepared for the upcoming lecture about irresponsibility and stupidity. It was bound to come… Instead, Maka was quavering beneath the red-eyed woman that was his grandmother. "You were in the _library_ instead of your music lessons with Wes. What could you possibly be doing there that could be more important than those lessons? You won't get any better at the piano if you miss lessons."

Soul kept his mouth shut. It didn't matter what he told his grandmother, that much he had realized by this age. Whatever she thought had happened… had happened. There was nothing that could change it. "We were playing."

"Playing?" The Mistress echoed.

The boy's mouth opened to spew a lie about the time spent, to tell her he'd been helping Maka learn music, instead the girl piped up with, "A game! Hide-and-seek!"

If it was possible, the Mistress's face grew harder. "You missed music lessons to play a _game_?"

He nodded. She looked down on him, "Stay here." The white-haired fury let her eyes drift over to Maka, "Remember this: You mother's presence is _not_ required here. She can be replaced. Keep that in mind when you interrupt my grandson's scheduled activities. You will go back to the servants' quarters and stay there until I can send your mother to you. Is that quite clear, you dull-witted child?"

She was brave. Not even a tear came to her eyes as she nodded and left the study. Soul tried to encourage her with a small smile, but Maka's face was turned away in shame and she sulked off. That left Soul and the Mistress at odds about music.

"I am highly displeased. Go practice. _Now_." Her voice cracked across his ears like a whip, and he moved away from her, body tight with irritation. She wasn't his mother, but she was a surrogate with how often his parents were gone. Soul's face grew somber. The Mistress of the Evans's mansion watched her grandson leave before she picked up a sheet of paper with staffs on it and began looking over it for probably the thousandth time.

*===*===*===*

It only took one more incident of failing to appear for lessons before Maka was banned from the central mansion, and the great library that resided there. Still, a rebellious streak awakened by a little girl with wide green eyes had caught fire in Soul, and he began leaving without her presence to encourage the child that was somehow still left in him. The rift between Soul, his grandmother and Wes grew wider. With each passing day, the Mistress learned that her younger grandson was not the child she had thought he once was.

It was about a year after Maka's ban that Soul's life changed dramatically again. He was prowling the halls _again_, skipping lessons _again_, when he made it to a servants' door. He had successfully avoided servants and those would inform his grandmother of his whereabouts. The door opened silently onto a secluded path in the tamed English-style garden. White-haired and rebellious, the boy peered around, cautiously looking for the people he was hiding from, before walking out, hands stuffed into his pockets, and heading for the servants' manor.

He, having followed it in various ways for a year, knew the path. Each step was familiar. Soon, the manor came into sight, hidden from the mansion's view by the tall greenery. He rapped on the door, which was opened by the servant, ironically, attending the servants' manor. Her hair was chocolate brunette, and curly, her uniform smartly pressed to the expectations of a rich family.

"Hello, young master." She greeted formally, with a smile. "What brings you here?"

Soul's red eyes were in their usual half-lidded position. "Can you tell Maka I'm here?" Even a rich child knew his position regarding servants: it was more an order with a lilt of a question.

The lady's face fell a little, "You weren't told?"

"What?" His eyebrow rose a little.

Her brown eyes fell into his crimson ones, sadness hidden behind them. "The Albarns have left the Mistress's service."

Soul stared. "That's a bad joke."

The servant shook her head. "They left yesterday for good."

He spun on his heel to leave, hard soles clicking against the flagstones. She'd left without even saying goodbye.

So much for friendship.

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_A/N: Reviews are love._

Next Chapter:

_All this time and everything's changed,_

_But I still feel the same._

_All good things eventually end and get lost down the drain._

_-Motion City Soundtrack, "It Had To Be You"_


	2. Transfer

_A/N: How about that fairly boring first chapter? I'm thinking this should begin to clear things up, don't you? Enjoy. P.S. Sorry this took a while to update, if you stalk the Soul Eater comm over on Livejournal. Forgive me? I've been busy.  
_

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Chapter 2: Transfer

_All this time and everything's changed,_

_But I still feel the same._

_All good things eventually end and get lost down the drain._

_-Motion City Soundtrack, "It Had To Be You"_

The sharp alarm broke the calm sleep she had fallen into after cramming late into the night. Two green eyes opened and an arm reached over a clicked it off before tossing the covers aside. A sleepy girl sat up, her long hair half falling out of the braid she commonly slept wearing. Her bare feet hit the cold hardwood and she got out of bed. Maka padded into the bathroom, calmly analyzing herself before getting into the shower.

Stepping out of the hot shower-tub, she quickly pulled her hair into its usual dual-pigtail, fingering the hair to let the bangs fall into place. The girl headed back to her bedroom and put on a fresh school uniform. It was, all in all, a quiet morning. Her breakfast consisted of a banana, eaten and discarded before she quickly collected her school things and stuffed them into a backpack. It was hefted onto her shoulder and she was out the door an hour after waking up.

Her shoes clicked against the tiles as she left the dorms and went to her homeroom, mentally reviewing the studying she'd done for today's test. The classroom came into her line of sight when she turned a corner. Dr. Stein was talking to a newly hired secretary, Miss Mjolnir, when she came up on them.

"I will bring him after the class gets settled then," the blonde said with a smile. _Bring who…?_ She wondered, passing them by with the correct amount of politeness. "It will probably take that long for the paperwork to be finished."

Her gray-haired teacher smirked, "I doubt it, but go ahead and tell the Headmaster that I'll make sure our newest student has a seat."

Interesting. So there was a transfer. It wasn't unheard of, she supposed, but certainly not something that happened every year to a sixteen-year-old. Maka pulled out a book and began reading in wait of the start of class. The words spun a world of their own in front of her eyes, each letter a finely crafted palace to let her fall into a place where she could forget everything.

"_This test will cower beneath this Star's greatness!_" A voice shouted upon entrance to the room. Maka winced. Her world crashed down around her, and the book snapped shut. She fought the urge to throw the book at the blue-haired annoyance of a boy; after all, he probably wouldn't know which way he was supposed to read it.

A traditional Japanese girl followed him, a sheepish smile on her face, "Why don't we find our seats, Black Star?" She smiled at Maka, "We can do some last minute studying while we wait for Stein-sen- _Dr._ Stein," she corrected herself quickly. She led the boy to their adjacent seats and their heads were soon together in rapid review.

Maka set the book aside and pulled out a pencil, clicking the eraser to push out a stick of lead. Her eyes wandered around the class, ears catching snippets of conversation.

"_- is way too weak of a power for the cost of the item!"_ Ox was telling Harvard.

The other boy messed with his hair, since sunglasses weren't in the dress code for him to wear, _"It grants the wielder-"_

Maka's ears turned off concerning them. If it was possible, the pair was geekier than her. Well, _she_ only considered herself a good student, not particularly nerdy or geeky, or any of those stereotypes. The worst she'd heard attending Shiubsen was "teacher's pet," but it didn't help when your father was Vice Principal, in any case, so she ignored it.

Dr. Stein entered the room, and picked up a chalk, "I know you'll all be very pleased to hear the test has been postponed a day." There was a collective cheer, all except Maka and Ox, who generally had disappointment written on their faces.

"I studied hard for that!" He complained. Maka deigned not to echo him aloud.

The biology-inclined teacher smirked for the second time that morning, "In lieu of having a new student joining us, we're having a lab."

Maka's face drooped. Her hand rose, "What are we dissecting?" _I hope not anything endangered…_

"I'll tell when our student comes." He sat at the desk and began shuffling and grading papers while the class sat in awkward silence. Murmurs began, and then the volume rose. Stein's gray eyes snapped up, "Did I tell you to talk? Pull out your books and read Chapter 5." The Biology books were obediently taken out and flipped open, some people continuing to talk after being reprimanded. Maka had read the chapter last night, and simply began answering the questions at the end of the chapter.

The door opened. Miss Mjolnir's head appeared, "Hello class! I'm dropping off your new classmate." The head retracted and the door opened completely. A bored-looking boy of sixteen stood with his hands in his pockets. His hair was white and spiky, red eyes half-lidded. A hand raised half in greeting and disappeared back into the pockets of the school uniform. The crimson orbs casually appraised the classroom's density before spotting the seat brought in for him, and he tossed his book-bag next to it.

"Have fun, Mr. Evans!" She called cheerily before closing the door. He tensed at the name, but did nothing.

Dr. Stein pushed himself away from the desk on his rolling seat. "Welcome to the class, Mr. Evans-"

"Soul Eater." He corrected absently, "Or Soul if you're lazy. It's not cool to stare, Maka." He added the last bit with a side comment to the offending party. She narrowed her eyes, let out a noise similar to "hmph" and went back to her book.

Stein's eyebrow rose, and the transfer student shrugged. "Why don't you tell us where you came from? A little about yourself?"

He leaned back in his seat, "I was homeschooled."

Maka rolled her eyes. "Homeschooled, _right_." The tone lacked her usual politeness.

He glanced at her, "Got a problem with the word, bookworm?"

Her green eyes met his red ones, "Why don't you tell the class about yourself, _Mr. Evans_?" The tone was daring.

Stein rapped his knuckles against the chalkboard, "I know you two seem well-acquainted, but we need to proceed with the pre-lab."

The pair settled into their seats, two desks away, but the tension between them was evident to everyone in the class but Black Star who was laughing instead of paying attention to the diagram presented on the overhead by Stein of a frog's insides. Soul wasn't paying attention either; instead he was watching the ceiling.

"Architecture is next period, Soul Eater." Stein said, rapping the overhead's glass. "Pay _attention_." Soul's eyebrow rose, but at least his eyes were on the projector's image rather than contemplating, apparently, the ceiling's ability to support itself. Maka sniffed and took her notes.

The morning passed slowly. When the bell rang for lunch, the class was half-asleep in boredom.

Soul found his lunch and trailed slowly to the cafeteria. Then there was an arm around his shoulder, and blue hair in his face. "Yai_hoo_/i, a new student! Soul can sit with us, alright Tsubaki?" The girl nodded with a smile, "Great! Come on." Soul's eyes glanced over at Maka who was quietly eating alongside two girls from class, though it was a stretch, considering a book was open, leaned against her lunchbox. "You don't need to talk to Maka – she's always been a little _big_ for a small star like herself."

"Yeah, right." Soul muttered, but allowed him to be led away by the blue-haired boy and his friend.

*===*===*===*

"What's the deal with Soul?" Jacqueline asked quietly, a small bit of food disappearing into her mouth.

Maka flipped a page, "Eh? I don't know what you mean."

Kim gave her an exasperated look, with Jacqueline mirroring it. "Come on, Maka, what was with you? When he came into class you looked like you'd seen a ghost."

Another page was flipped. "Well, it's not every day you see an idiot with white hair."

The pair rolled their eyes. Kim spoke again, "And then you just shut him down."

"I don't want to talk about this." Maka muttered, but her eyes drifted over to where Soul was already laughing with Tsubaki and Black Star over lunch. "Or him."

Kim's eyebrow rose, but she smiled. Jacqueline nodded, "We'll see you in class, Maka." They picked up their trays and tossed them before leaving the cafeteria.

_What's the big _deal_? He can't just_ waltz_ into _my_ class and expect me to jump up and give him a hug and be best friends_. _I might not be acting very fair, but life isn't _fair_._ She finished her meal and continued reading. Knuckles rapped on the table, and her world of ink fell away again. She looked up. A familiar face greeted her. Her eyes fell back to the book, "You'll be late to class."

The chair scraped against the floor as he pulled it out and sat down, "Want to play?" He asked. Maka looked back up.

"Where's the instruments?" She asked quietly, mouth forming the words before her brain realized she was accepting his presence. His mouth spilt into a smile, but she was still reading. A finger tapped the book, "Why are you here? You can afford better."

He rolled his eyes. "Let's not shout it, eh, Maka?"

"Ashamed?" She asked, still not looking up. It was a simple enough question, she thought smugly. And he _was_ rich enough he didn't need to attend Shibusen of all places…

The chair scraped again, "See you in class, bookworm."

_He changed the subject... That's just like him_. Maka closed her book and collected her remaining food, tossing it into the respective bins.

*===*===*===*

The board had a two circles drawn on it that overlapped. The one on the right was labeled _'Unconscious,'_ the one on the left was labeled _'Conscious,' _with the middle being labeled _'Dreams.'_

Stein tapped the _'Unconscious,'_ circle. "What goes here?" Maka's hand rose. "Go ahead, Miss Albarn."

She nodded, writing as she spoke, "The unconscious life is led by the weapon." Stein's chalk marked it down, "It is not physical, but takes place in the Dreamscape." Soul looked tragically bored. "The meister, then, takes the lead in the _Conscious_ world, but can still control, and wield, the weapon in the Dreamscape. Dreams are the link between the unconsciousness and consciousness, allowing the weapon and meister to work together."

"Good, Maka." Stein rested the chalk against the rail. "Class, quiz tomorrow on unconscious versus conscious leadership. Dismissed." The second after the word was off his lips, the bell rang signaling the end of classes. "Soul Eater Evans, please stay after class."

Soul stayed, and, after the class had filed out, the boy and the teacher were left. Stein shuffled the papers on his desk, "I mean to ask _why_ you came, though I suppose Shinigami knows _that _already." The teen's mouth was sealed shut. He wasn't _required_ to answer out of class, and didn't. "Does it have to do with Miss Albarn?" Again, he said nothing. "You can leave." Stein said quietly, and the boy left.

Stein's words followed Soul down the hall, past the huge windows that looked out onto the city, and into his temporary dormitory: _Sleep well, Mr. Evans_.

Did he know? Soul's door shut behind him and the boy slid onto the futon sitting where one might watch a TV, but his lacked furnishings, and other odds and ends expected of a rich boy. Soul curled up under the blanket and fell asleep for an after-school nap.

*===*===*===*

Her books were spread over the table; notes and diagrams neatly laid out to allow maximum absorption of studying materials. Her eyes met the Venn diagram created by the class, and finished by her. Dreams, unconscious, conscious. Terms floated and swirled under her gaze. Her eyes blinked and she yawned widely, hand rising to absently cover it.

She'd slept well, why was she so tired?

Maka stood and walked to her room, setting an alarm for an hour. A nap and nothing more. She crawled under the covers and let her eyes slide shut. The first thing she was aware of was the falling sensation, completely alone, and completely immersed in darkness. Her heart was pounding, soul shivering in the pure blackness that surrounded her.

Her trained mind knew what was happening, having waited two years for it to happen: The Dreamscape was unlocked.

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_A/N: Reviews are love~_

Next Chapter:

_I know a place we can go to,_

_A place where no one knows you,_

_They won't know who we are._

_-Plain White T's, "Let Me Take You There"_


	3. Black

A/N: It sounds cheesy and stupid (and maybe it is) but I really appreciate all the input. It's really nice to log on and see "Hey, you did a good job here," or even, "I'd suggest this instead of that." I'll try my best to respond to every review, and I'm sorry if I accidentally skip one. This is my general thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far. Much love.

_---_

Chapter 3: Black

_I know a place we can go to,_

_A place where no one knows you,_

_They won't know who we are._

_-Plain White T's, "Let Me Take You There"_

The first thing that she was aware of was the complete lack of direction. She knew up was up and down was down, but there was no East or West, and reference points were swallowed up in the black that was the Dreamscape. She curled deeper within herself, directions changing as she slowly spun in the black, floating. The darkness was pressing in on her, expanding out from her, all in the same moment. Maka pressed her arms into her stomach, closing her eyes. She wasn't afraid of the blackness; it wouldn't swallow her. Still, she couldn't shake the idea that it _might_ suck her in, that it _might_ lead her into an unshakable fate. She fought it off, knowing she couldn't forget the fear, but had to accept it, and overcome it. Part of her knew why she was here. Most of her did. She knew her place as a meister, but who was the weapon?

When the thought of the weapon crossed her mind, and she was beginning to despair that, somehow, the rules they'd been taught, the truths that had been held to be accurate for a century or more, that, _somehow_ they'd been wrong, and she'd been sucked into the world of dreams and had no way out. She pressed herself deeper into the fetal position, legs curling up to protect her. Maka didn't cry, no, she was too strong for that, but she felt hopelessness rising in her. With the dark pressing harder the longer she was alone, the more the feeling persisted, poisoning her courage.

She felt it before she could see it, a slow, winding pressure through the darkness. When it came to her, she could feel it against her, the force almost too much to bear without screaming out, and, then, it was gone, replaced with an icy chill. Her wide eyes opened, and below her floating feet, there was a pathway. It was twisted, black and red, jagged designs covering everything on it. Occasionally, the pathway whipped back on itself, sometimes forming lightening-like designs.

Maka looked at it hesitantly –where did it lead?- but she allowed herself to float down to it, one toe touching before the rest of her foot. When the bare foot flattened against the pathway, she could feel its metallic coolness. It was firm, and when her other foot landed against it, smoke hissed from below her feet, forming up around her body. It surged upward for a second before descending and condensing around her. The smoke was no longer simply smoke, but clung to her like dewdrops, and wove together to form fabric. When it was all done, she was dressed simply, a black dress, which she would've considered indecent, was it not for the semi-transparent top that covered her chest. She was wearing long black gloves that came past her elbows, and her hair was tied into two pigtails, each with a black ribbon around the base. She took a step forward, only to hear the faint click of high-heeled shoes.

The girl sighed. Where was this going to take her?

It didn't take her long to realize there was a sort of dome around her now; the darkness was simply _there_, but not pressing in, not stealing her hope. There were directions; everything had stabilized. Up was now permanently _up_, and down was firmly rooted in her mind as _down_. It was a relief that the sense of vertigo had gone.

Her heels clicked against the metal as she went away from where she was, following the pathway. She never left the path, feeling drawn to it in a way similar to gravity pulling on her feet. Maka knew she could jump off, back into the darkness, but the security she felt in being on the path, in knowing where she was, kept her moving forward. It felt like a long time to her, but that might have been because the scenery never changed, it never was anything but the jaggedly divided pathway beneath her feet and the endless black everywhere else.

An eternity seemed to pass and she didn't grow tired, she just kept walking, her heels continually clicking against the metal. Off in the distance, though, the pathway widened to her vision, but from the distance it could have just been an alteration in the pathway's direction. Still, it proved she hadn't been just walking forever. She hurried toward it, realizing it wasn't just her imagination; the pathway had ended into a large circle.

As she drew closer, it was similar to the rest of the path. Where the edge of the black and red floor ended, it dropped off into darkness. But here, there was a single black piano. The single jagged line had turned into mini tiles, each with an edge that was never straight, and the titles barely fit together. Around her, candles floated, seemingly suspended in midair. Hidden behind the piano, out of Maka's sight, was a traveling trunk, locked.

Maka glanced around. It was only black as far as she could see. She frowned. She'd walked all this way for floating candles and a piano that was only vaguely familiar? It wasn't very exciting for her trip into the Dreamscape. She was almost… disappointed. Well, wasn't that to be expected? She crossed her arms under her breasts, a frown creasing her face.

She made a dismissive noise. Whatever. She hadn't expected anything anyway. Maka spun on her heel and began walking back away from the piano.

"Leaving so soon?" A voice called. She froze. Slowly, her body turned back to see a white-haired boy in a pin-stripe suit walking out of the wall of darkness. It caressed him, almost like it was teasing him back into it.

Maka made a noise similar to _hmph_. "Took you long enough." He was finally completely free of the darkness, shoving his hands into his pockets. The jacket bunched up around his arms where they were hidden in the pockets. "Why are you here?"

His red eyes landed on her dress. "Is it so hard to believe I'd be a weapon?" The tone was cool, distant. Maka could practically feel the chilly tone roll off him. She shivered a little.

"I-I didn't say that." It was hard to confront his glaring eyes. No, some _boy_ didn't intimidate _her. _Courage swelled in her, and her eyes rose to meet his, green against red. "You could've told me sooner. Is that why Dr. Stein wanted you?"

Soul shrugged. "Transfers aren't exactly common, I get. Any teacher'd be interested in one, eh?" His eyes were steady, then broke off. "Come on, we've gotta find a way out."

Irritation swelled in Maka, "You brought me here _and you don't even know how to get out!?_" There was a burst of blue light, and it solidified inside Maka's hand, a large dictionary of all words starting with S. His red eyes glanced at it and the darkness sucked it back in, the blue book barely even standing a chance as its light vanished under her hands.

Maka looked at him, wide-eyed. His face was plain. "You said a weapon controls the Dreamscape, right?" An eyebrow rose. There was snickering, and Maka glanced around for the source, her eyes falling on the trunk that she'd missed before. Soul walked over and kicked the trunk. The smothered laughter erupted into full-out hysterics. He glared at it, and then his eyes rose to meet Maka's. "Well? You got any ideas?"

She frowned, turned away. She almost wondered what was in that box. "I don't see why I should. You got us here anyway."

He rolled his eyes at her back; though he didn't even so much as glance at the piano. "Guess we're stuck then." Blue light began forming around her hand again, but the darkness snapped it back up before it could get anything larger than a small aura. Her frustration was evident by the tenseness between her shoulder blades.

Her thoughts begun to boil over at the simple acceptance; Maka spun on her heel. "Just what is your _problem?_" Her eyes were on fire with buried passion, though it was met with indifference. Her fists clenched at her side. "_Well?_"

Soul's mouth quirked slightly. How accurate was that statement…? He appeared to think about what he'd say next. "I'd say walking back the way you came'd get you out, but it looks endless to me." He leaned up against the piano, using it as nothing more than a support. "I'm assuming you just appeared here."

Maka blinked. "You're not-" Well, it would make sense he wasn't worried about getting out if he was the cause of all this, right? She bit her lip in thought. "Fine." She turned her back to him again, heels clicking against the path. As she left the circle that had the piano, candles, and Soul, it seemed to dissolve behind her. The pathway, which had blended seamlessly with the platform she'd met the boy on broke apart and began falling, nipping at her heels, teasing her into the endless darkness below.

The fear of the consuming darkness made her begin rushing. Her heels vanished in a flash of blue light, immediately sucked into the black hole. The security she'd felt landing on the black and red path began crumbling with the metallic walkway. With bare feet, Maka was sprinting away from the falling areas. But as she ran away, the ground in front of her began falling too. She couldn't stop in time and she slid off. The momentum of the run had her pitching in all directions as the dress vanished into the dark. She was falling; soon she'd be devoured by it. Her eyes shut, fear gripping her nerves. Her arms reached out, for anything… _Anything._

_Don't leave me here…_ The black solidified into a curtain, and her fingers grew tangled it, her heart racing. _Give me anything at all…_

She sat up, gasping for breath. Her sheet was tangled in her hands, alarm blaring. Her eyes glanced around… It was just her room. Her heart was still racing, the fear slowly subsiding. Had it been a nightmare? But it'd been so real. She pulled her knees up to her chest, blanket wrapping around her. That fear had been so real too, so terribly real. Her hand pressed against where her heart was pounding as if touching it could help warm the chill that had come over it.

It pressed harder, her breath still coming in ragged gasps. That darkness had been so penetrating. It seemed to pierce right into her soul. Her eyes closed. It was just a nightmare. She peeled back her covers, sock-covered feet touching the bare floor. Maka hoped studying would make the feeling go away, her fingers still shaking. It was just a nightmare. Besides, she had to study anyway. She pulled out her hair and pulled it back away from her face again, as if something so mundane would calm her.

She sat down at the table; her homework still out where she'd left it before the peculiar bout of sleepiness. Her fingers found the Venn diagram from class. Was it really possible that'd been the Dreamscape, like she'd wanted to get into for so long? It was so much darker, so much more foreboding. But Soul had been there.

Her fingers pressed against her temples. There was really only one thing to do, in this case. She shoved her books back into her bag, hefting it onto her shoulder. The dorm was quickly locked up and she began walking down the hall… Only to remember she'd forgotten shoes. A faint blush on her cheeks, Maka turned around, unlocked the door and quickly shoved shoes onto her feet. Then she followed her previous path, walking past the assigned dorms with her backpack.

He had some explaining to do; she intended to get answers. If she knew what was going on, she could go back to ignoring him. It would make it easier to focus. Of course he'd be in the temporary dorms, her mind supplied rationally. He had just arrived, and they needed to get a place ready. So she followed her mental map to where he should be. There were multiple doors in the temporary dorms' area, all of which were locked up with the sign marked _Unassigned_.

She approached the door marked _Assigned_ and knocked rather forcefully.

There was no answer, no response, not a sound coming from the inside.

---

Next Chapter:

"_This flood (this flood) is slowly rising up swallowing the ground_

_Beneath my feet, tell me how anybody thinks under this condition so_

_I'll swim (I'll swim) as the water rises up, the sun is sinking down"_

_-Jack's Mannequin, "Dark Blue"_

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_A/N: Reviews are love. :3 Thanks for reading._


	4. Past

_A/N: ALRIGHT. Here's the deal. An update. That's the deal. I hope you enjoy…_

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Chapter 4: Past

"_This flood (this flood, this flood)_

_Is slowly rising up (swallowing the ground) beneath my feet_

_Tell me how anyone thinks (under these conditions)"_

_-Jack's Mannequin, "Dark Blue"_

She was getting more annoyed the longer she stood outside his door. She knocked again, a sharp pain going through her knuckles as she rapped harder. Typical. Maka shifted her weight. Fine, well, if he wanted to be inhospitable, she wasn't going to press him. It was his problem, not hers.

The door creaked open. A small child and a blond woman with a kind face were the culprits of the disturbance, entering the apartment. The blond woman led her charge to the kitchen, where a woman with gray hair and green eyes stood over a stove, wooden spoon in her hand. Around her, everything was spotless, clean enough to pass a white glove test. The blond woman still wore the servants' uniform, though she propelled the little girl in front of her.

"We're back." The servant said quietly, brown eyes looking on the elder woman.

The young mother smiled at the woman. "Thank you for watching her."

The other woman nodded. Her childish features defined whom she worked best with as a trait. "It was nothing, Ms. Albarn. If you need me again, you know where to drop her off. She's nothing but good." The babysitter curtsied out of habit and excused herself, apartment door clicking behind her.

"Mama?" Wide green eyes looked up at the woman, an air of dignity and love surrounding her. The woman's arms wrapped around the small child as she knelt to pick up her child and prop her against her hip. Soon, the girl pressed against her mother's side. She snuggled inside the woman's grasp. "I made a friend," she reported.

_The woman's face was soft as she turned back to stirring the soup on the stove, child still in one arm. "Did you?" The small girl nodded, "Does this new friend have a name?"_

_A bright smile lit the girl's face. "Soul!" She leaned back away from her mother. "He didn't know how to play hide-and-seek! So I taught him like Papa and I play." She giggled and hugged her mother, arms barely reaching halfway. She missed the look of pained sadness that flickered across her mother's face in the embrace at the mention of her husband._

"_I bet he was happy to learn from such a sweet girl, huh?" She adjusted the girl on her side._

_The girl smiled at the compliment, resting her head on her mama's shoulder. "I met another boy too. His name was Wes, but he wasn't very nice." She said it in a dismissive tone, as if unkindness was something she shouldn't worry herself with as a problem. She'd been nice, and that was what she was taught to be. After all, she was a little lady, as her papa always told her._

_Her mother, however, paused at the name. "You met two boys called Wes and Soul, Maka?" The child nodded, proud of herself for meeting two people so soon._

_She squirmed a little and her mother obligingly set her down. The silvery-haired girl walked over and crawled on top of a chair, legs swinging off the end. "Mmhmm. But I only played with Soul. Wes was busy."_

Dirty dishes went into the washing water, and her mother scrubbed them. "That's very nice, sweetie." She glanced back to check on her daughter. The child knew well enough to stay where she was, and was watching, from a distance, her mother clean the dishes. "You know, Soul's family owns all this. Everything inside the fences, and then some." Her child's eyes widened, having no concept of the distance between the fences enclosing the Evans estate. To her, it was an endless yard, bound only by her imagination and the old English-style gardens that occasionally dotted its landscape.

_The woman glanced out the window, then at the clock, "Your papa should be home soon."_

Finally, she let it be, having knocked more than a few times. She decided she would have to catch him in class. She left the temporary dorm area, shoes padding against the tiles. She sniffed in distaste. Maka passed by the dorms. She barely noticed some of the doors were still open. She could hear her classmates studying or in incredibly useless activities, the latter having been accomplished by Ox and Havar.

She reached her room, only marked by two spots for names. The first was hers, _Maka Albarn_; the second was unused. She shoved her key into the lock and opened the door, shutting it behind her. Her shoes were off and placed by the door in their proper place. In front of her, the apartment was almost shimmering with cleanliness. It was impossible to study in a dirty environment anyway. Though her book-bag slid of her shoulder onto the table as she prepared to study on her kitchen table, her mind was elsewhere, down the hall, still in front of a door labeled _Assigned_.

She was irritated he hadn't answered her, insulted and hurt perhaps. It was just a male thing, she concluded as she slid out the chair. It was their duty to ignore women except when it suited their needs. Maka sat rather harshly on the chair and yanked out her books. The bookworm couldn't help but notice that the top book was one on the Dreamscape. She shuffled the books around to put it on the bottom and out of her mind. It would be impossible to study if she was continually worried about a nightmare.

Still, it was impossible for her to study. Between a clock that seemed louder than usual and a mind that refused to accept the knowledge she intended to instill in it, her responses to the assigned questions were lacking. The ticking of the simple clock on the wall was breaking her concentration. When she finally began to fall into her rhythm of answering questions, yelling and quick footsteps outside her door shattered the carefully built walls. Maka shook her head and tried to study.

Again, it seemed fate was conspiring against her. There was a knock on her door. She rolled her eyes and stood, walking over to her door. The lock flipped open with a click and she pulled it open. On the other side, she met the eyes of a classmate whom she happened to sit with at lunch: Kim.

She sighed, and the girl looked genuinely regretful, "I'm sorry to bother you, Maka." She admitted. Then their eyes met, "But I remembered that you knew the new kid-"

"I don't want to know," Was her quick reply. Kim's hurt look made her relinquish her initially harsh comment. "Come on in and tell me." She opened the door wider and allowed Kim to pass.

The girl glanced around, "You know, I've been in school with you for_ever_ and I can't remember being in your apartments?" The response she received had to do with a shutting door. She turned around, "Why are you still in your uniform?"

"I've been studying." Maka lied. Well, it was mostly true… "And I took a nap." She smoothed the plaid skirt carefully, well aware of the annoying wrinkles.

Kim nodded. She was dressed in a green miniskirt and white long-sleeve shirt. "You were?" She frowned, "Well, see, Jacqueline was walking to the mailboxes downstairs to get our mail…" Her eyes rose to meet the other's. "And she passed through the temporary dorms." _Where is this going, Kim?_ "The new kid's door was open and Jacqueline looked in since she was curious, right?" Maka shifted, "And, um…"

_Did he… Was he…?_

"Dr. Stein and Miss Mjolnir were in his room." Maka's eyes widened. "Um, we don't know much more than that… But I'm kind of reminded of, um, what happened with…" She dropped her eyes.

Maka grabbed Kim's hand, "Thank you for telling me. I've got somewhere to be. Tell me when you get more information!" It might be incredibly inconsiderate, but she had to get out. She shoved her feet into her shoes, and Kim jumped outside the frame between the hall and the apartment.

The door was quickly locked and the girl dashed off down the hall, towards the temporary dorms. Kim blinked and Jacqueline's head poked out of their room. The black-haired girl looked at her meister. "Did she even listen?"

Kim smiled, "Yep."

"Good."

===*===*===

Maka skidded to a stop as she reached Soul's door. It was closed again. She frowned and knocked on the door. This time, it opened. On the other side was a tired-looking boy. He yawned and shoved a free hand in his uniform's pocket. "Hey." Another yawn. His eyes looked were the usual: brilliantly red and incredibly apathetic.

The girl frowned and looked past him, expecting to see a blond-haired woman with a patch over one eye and silver-haired teacher. She sniffed. Of course those two girls would trick her like this. It was why she would rather just be alone, she decided. It was much simpler, and books didn't play pranks. "I thought…"

His eyebrow rose. "That's nothing new that I need to know."

Her eyes narrowed at the boy. "Jacqueline told Kim that Dr. Stein and Miss Mjolnir were in your dorm-room."

Soul glanced over his shoulder. "I don't see an old man and Mjolnir. Do you?"

Maka's irritation seemed to roll off her, met by an uninspired, unmotivated boy. "_Well_?" She couldn't help but sneak a peek. There was, to her, no evidence the incident according to Kim had ever happened at all. She bit her lip and glanced down the hall. "May I come in?"

Soul leaned against the hinge of the door and opened it the rest of the way, "Be my guest." The girl couldn't ignore the fact that the dorm was already dirty, despite boxes half-opened stack atop one another. He'd only been in the room and had managed to mess it up. "Don't mind the clutter or whatever. Just moving in, you know the deal." He shut the door behind her as she walked past.

Both hands were shoved into his pockets as he leaned up against the door. Maka turned around to look at him. He seemed oddly ill at ease, almost as if he'd seen this sort of thing coming. "Why is your window open?" Soul shrugged. He walked through his mess of clutter over to the window opposite the door, in what functioned as a TV room. He slid it shut. "What did Jacqueline see, Soul?"

His red eyes met hers. "Who's that again?"

She sighed. "Did you go to sleep?" His clothes were slightly wrinkled, but, given the state of his room, she was inclined to think the only reason his clothes _had_ been neat this morning was that it'd been given to him as such.

"And what does that have to do with anything?" He asked, turning around to face her again. He seemed perfectly content to stand amongst the clutter. She preferred to stay near the door where the chaos of the moving-in ceremony was at a minimum. Who knew if he'd even cleaned the floors before dumping his stuff everywhere.

Her green eyes met his. "You were in a dream I had."

Soul looked at her impassively; his eyes half-lidded. "What a compliment." He seemed to have something else to say, to her, but stopped midway through the sentence.

She blinked at him. Well, this was not going quite as planned. "It's not!" She clenched her fists. "Don't you understand?!_ Anything?!_ When I say 'I _dreamed_' you're supposed to comment about that! Or help out! Why can't you be useful?!" She wished she could have bitten back the last part, but all she could do was watch as the words struck him.

His whole body spelled anger, far more reaching than she could've ever thought. "You want useful, Maka? Go study your ass off for schooling that'll never matter to anyone. Go read books and forget the real world. Drown yourself in words. I don't care." He walked to the single bedroom, which was linked by a thin door. It slammed shut. Maka took a step forward, hand raising as if she could tell him what she wanted through the gesture, but Soul was through the door, and quite clearly not talking to anyone.

Maka spun on her heel, regulation shoes barely making a sound as she passed the coat hanger by the door. Tears prickled at the corner of eyes. As she walked by and out the door, she couldn't quite shake the faint smell of smoke that clung to the cloth.

---

A/N: _ I guess school starting back up means I have more time to write fanfiction?

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Next Chapter:

"_I don't wanna sleep,_

_I don't wanna dream,_

'_Cause my dreams don't comfort me_

_The way you make me feel."_

_-Skillet, "Comatose"_


	5. Dreams

_A/N: Alright, so... Another chapter. I really think I need to sleep before I update these stories. I tend to go a little crazy and think I've done things wrong. :/ Well, enough rambling, read on~_

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_

Chapter 5: Dreams

"_I don't wanna sleep,_

_I don't wanna dream,_

'_Cause my dreams don't comfort me_

_The way you make me feel."_

_-Skillet, "Comatose"_

Soul sat on the bed once he heard Maka shut his dorm door. Out of everyone possible… Out of everyone in the whole damn school, she had to be the one to ask the question he dreaded most.

_Can't you be useful?_

He shut his eyes. Stay calm. That was not cool, getting that angry over such a simple phrase, it just wasn't. He sat on his bed, looking into his hands. The Dreamscape, old man Stein had called it. Maka had dreamed about him, probably during the same time he'd been asleep, dreaming of her. His eyes squeezed harder shut. He could still feel his heart racing from the argument.

_Calm down, Soul_.

He leaned over, pressing the palms of his hands into his eyes, stars erupting over his vision. There was faint cackling in the back of his head.

_It's powerful, you know. You wouldn't even need the Dreams anymore~_

Soul dropped his palms and looked straight ahead. He was crazy. He was _not_ hearing voices. That was definitely not cool in any sense of the word. He'd be locked up in an asylum faster than Black Star could eat a tray of food, and considering Soul had already eaten with the blue-haired boy once, he was fairly certain it was an accurate measure of time for just how long it would take.

After all… Hearing voices…? It was definitely not on his list of things to accomplish before he died. The list was short, almost pathetically short. He recalled the floating circle, the feeling of loss when the link was broken as Maka ran from him. The instant she had broken the connection to his platform, she'd vanished into the dark.

What if he had been to blame, and she hadn't been able to get out?

_Are you frightened? You wouldn't be anymore… Just let it in… I promise it's worth it~_

He shook his head, opening the door to his room. He busied himself with unpacking his boxes, and then paused. They'd said it could take months to find a meister for a weapon, that he should report to them when he'd dreamed a meister into the Dreamscape.

_Sleep well, Evans._

It seemed everyone's words were haunting him. He remembered the look of interest on Stein's face, the worry stemming from Marie. He recalled their anticipation that he would tell them who had met him, but when they had pulled him out, expectations dropped dramatically. When he told them he'd simply slipped into it, entirely by accident, they nodded and left, though he could tell the pair would be discussing it later.

_Can't you be useful?_ Her voice was taunting him now. He stood up, shoving his hands into his pockets.

His red eyes bored holes in the thin wooden door. _Screw you all._ His hand reached out for the doorknob, wrist twisting it open. It was easy enough to him to remember the way from his room out of the school. First day and he already needed a break.

"I'm a real record-breaker, aren't I, Maka?" He told the gray sky as his feet pounded the well-tended school grounds.

===*===*===

Maka was all irritation and rage as she stormed out of the temporary housing. The hallways blurred past her, and a door next to hers slid silently shut as its two female residents saw the reaction of the A-student. Her door opened and slammed. The sign noting who lived in the room quivered.

Inside, Maka paced her room. It was his fault, after all. His fault for coming to Shibusen, his fault for scaring her half to death, _his_ fault for the Dreamscape (or nightmare) incident… His fault for…

_For?_ She prompted herself. Maka sat down on the couch cushion, creating a noise as the air deflated to allow for her minuscule weight. She pulled her knees up to her chest, looking at the wall. She rested her chin on her knees. "For making me move."

It was later than she would've liked, and she hadn't even finished studying yet. The girl stood and walked over to her half-finished work, sitting down, trying to finish. Her mind still swirled around the idea that there had been a consuming darkness in that nightmare-Dreamscape.

_I'm not scared of it._ She pushed her pen harder against the paper. _It's just the dark. I haven't been afraid of the dark for a long time_. And if she got lost inside it again… Maka shook her head, pigtails swinging against her head. It was hard to focus with his words in his head.

_He's just a stupid boy. Don't listen to him. What does he know?_

"Nothing." She managed to finish the most pressing of her work. "If he's nothing, then his words are nothing."

_But he's a weapon… And I don't have one._

Maka's eyes looked at the door that connected her living space to her bedroom, the one that faced the spare bedroom, currently being used as a storage space. "I'm not scared of the dark."

===*===*===

A grin split his face, brilliant blue hair shimmering in the desert sun of the Dreamscape. In his hands, a chain-sickle gleamed as he twisted it into his grip. Before him stood a mix of man and sphinx. Sand was kicked up as the boy jumped into the air and fell free-fall towards the night terror.

"Ya_hoooooo!_" He screamed while his blade descended. The terror raised its arm, dust swirling around its hard and solidifying into a shield. The blade slammed into it. Twisting his body, Black Star kicked off the quick defense and flipped in the air, skidding across the sand as he moved away from it. One hand touched the ground as he did so.

A face flashed across the blade, a concerned woman on its face. "Black Star! Are you-"

He flipped the weapon around, and grinned at it. "Fine, Tsubaki." One hand pressed against the ground and he pushed himself up onto it into a handstand. The weapon's sighed and disappeared from view again. His arm lowered and he launched himself into the air again. The man-sphinx raised its shielded arm once again, but as one of Tsubaki's blades collided with the shield, it sunk in. The sphinx roared in pain.

Quickly, she changed into a single knife blade, freeing one of her meister's hands. Using her handle as leveraged, he flipped onto the unprotected side. The sphinx had little time to react as Black Star pressed a hand into its side. With a quick twist, there was an explosion. In time, the boy wrenched Tsubaki out of the shield and jumped back.

The sphnix went down, side dissolving. He stood, holding Tsubaki aloft in a showy finale. The knife glowed and the woman appeared next to him, smiling widely. Tsubaki reached out for the dying terror, already dissolving into red sand. It spun into a vortex, and as the weapon reached out and touched the miniature whirlwind, it spun faster and surged upward, descending like rain on her skin. Her blue eyes looked at her partner, delighted. Any of the falling sand that missed her initially then floated toward her, attracted by the polar opposite of its origin and destination.

Tsubaki breathed in deeply, reddish for a second, before she completely absorbed every bit of sand. She looked at her partner, smiling once more. "Thank you."

He cackled and raised his hand for a high-five. She shyly responded to the gesture. He smacked it hard, and as he began to shout to the endless desert of their victory, Tsubaki shook out the pain in her hand. She placed a hand on his shoulder. Around them, the desert faded briefly, returning them to an old Japanese house. No one was around except the pair and Black Star spun around, ready to continue.

"Good night, Black Star." She murmured.

When he realized where they were, the boy looked disappointed. "I was on a roll!" Before he could protest more, the Japanese house dissolved like ink running off a wet page. Her meister was sent into the realm of true sleep, momentarily away from the memories of the man-sphnix.

Tsubaki's eyes opened as she stared at the ceiling, awaking. The moonlight that came through the window illuminated her room, striking her face. It sent red sparkles onto the walls. A hand slipped out from under her cover. The movement allowed some to fall to her bed, but the room was slightly redder.

"Thank you, Black Star." She murmured again before allowing the hand to fall. She closed her eyes, falling asleep again, this time to a place where dreams were nothing more than projections of the subconscious.

When the triumphant pair entered class the next morning, they found a sullen Maka. It was unsurprising that Soul's seat was empty, after all, it was a few minutes before class. Tsubaki thought he still had more time to make it before he was tardy. She abandoned her meister to go brag to his fellows before working her way over to the loner-bookworm.

Tsubaki could see the air of annoyance surrounding the girl as she read. The way she grasped the book, her almost-slouch… To a casual observer, Maka was simply reading. She put on a smile and walked over, hands tucked behind her back. The result of the terror's defeat had washed off in a shower.

"Hello Maka." She greeted simply.

It was a while before the girl responded. She placed a bookmark near-reverently into the spine and looked up at the tool-weapon. "Hey, Tsubaki." She set the book to the side and pulled out a pen.

The weapon leaned up against the desk between Maka and Soul's. She could wait for the weaponless meister to talk to her. Patience she had in abundance. The bell for class rang as the silence continued between the two. Tsubaki glanced at the raised desk.

No Stein. Maka looked up, a confused look on her face.

"Isn't Professor Stein always on time?" She asked Tsubaki.

The weapon thought about it for a second. "Maybe he's sick today. I wish him well." Black Star was making a fool of himself, and class had technically started.

Tsubaki shifted. "I'll talk to you at lunch, okay, Maka?" The other responded with a quick nod. _Where's Soul?_ As she thought about the missing student, the quirky teacher entered the room. Without even taking attendance, the man began his lesson. She couldn't help but notice it focused on the strength of a soul. Still, she studiously took notes.

It seemed like an eternity before the clock showed a minute before lunch. Maka frowned as Stein ended his lecture and found her eyes wandering to Soul's still-empty seat. "Miss Albarn, I'd like to see you after class." Her cheeks were hot as the class's eyes fell on her. The bell rang, and the class shuffled out. "You may go to lunch as well, Miss Nakatsukasa, Miss Albarn can meet you there." The end was tacked on as Tsubaki waited by the doorway. She blushed and quickly departed with an apology.

Maka approached the raised desk, wide eyes watching as her teacher dug around his desk for an unknown item. With a quiet ah-_ha_! he produced a pen and a piece of paper. He began talking as he wrote. "If you and your weapon are up to it, come back here at nine o'clock sharp." He handed her the sheet. She quickly glanced down at it: a letter explaining that she was allowed out of the dormitories after lights-out. When her eyes fell on the second name, his words registered.

"_My_ weapon? Professor… I think you've mixed me up with someone else." She held the piece of paper out for him. "I don't have a weapon."

Her statement was punctuated by a crack as Stein slapped his briefcase on the desk. His silvery eyes looked on her. "Perhaps I was mistaken in assuming Mister Evans was your weapon?"

Maka stepped back. Her mind told her not to take another step: it was a step down next. But not Soul. It was _still_ his fault for all that anyhow… "He's not my weapon." She managed carefully.

The glasses he wore glinted as he looked on her, smirking in his unnerving way. It seemed the room was much smaller with his eyes on her and seeing right through her pathetic attempts. Years of book learning told her _exactly_ what the man was thinking with regards to Soul and her. "If you say so." He lifted the briefcase off the desk and hopped down the few steps. He was out the door and off to lunch before Maka could raise another protest to Soul's new classification.

_He's_ not _my weapon_… She told herself as she grabbed her lunch and walked down the hall. He'd shown her the Dreamscape. …_Is he?_

Next Chapter:

"_And, hey now, what am I to do?_

_I better think twice before I make my move_

'_Cause last time I didn't think it through_

_Don't know where it's gonna go,_

_Don't know what we're gonna do._

_And, hey now, what am I to say?_

_My foolish words got in the way_

_Of us being friends._

_Wake up, make up, can't we get along again?"_

_-Sanctus Real, "The Fight Song"_

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_A/N: Aaaaand I really love that song, the preview of the next chapter. :D Reviews are love, and I love people for reading, even without a review. Thanks for reading!  
_


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